


Ricochet -The Starset Series- Part 4

by Antigravity_Carnivore



Series: The Starset Series [4]
Category: Breaking Benjamin (Band), STARSET (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Bands, Darkness, Demons, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigravity_Carnivore/pseuds/Antigravity_Carnivore
Summary: The Aftermath of it all..





	

**Author's Note:**

> This installment of the Starset Series wasn’t planned. I decided to do three chapters and make the story completely self-contained, however the band recently released a new album, called “Vessels” and after hearing a few tracks on it, I decided that I would like to take some of the lyrics and turn them into a story that was my take on how they made me feel. Originally I was going to start with a new plot, but one song in particular “Ricochet” lent itself perfectly to how my story was going. (even though it had ended) So I decided to give it another go… I don’t know how this will progress, because of this writing on 1-19-2017, the album is set to be released tomorrow, and I am sure that there will be other songs on there that will inspire me as well. THEY DON’T KNOW MY HEART!!  
> Please keep in mind when reading this that this story and all that comes before and after it is completely a work of my imagination. If you are easily offended by homosexual actions between band members, then I suggest that you cease reading this right away. I like to consider my writing science-fiction/fantasy… and that is all it is, a FANTASY story.  
> One more note, I’ve personally met the guys from Starset and Breaking Benjamin, and they both are the nicest bunch of guys that you would ever want to meet. They do a lot for their fans, and I suggest that if you ever get the chance to do a VIP event, go for it. It’s well worth the price, you won’t be disappointed.

-Chapter 4-  
(this chapter is inspired by the Starset song of the same name)  
Ricochet  
There’s something to be said for feeling safe and warm. It’s a feeling that completely wraps around you and takes hold, building a wall of invulnerability that nothing can breach. It creates that impossible world where everything is right and there is no pain, agony or animosity. Finding this place is extremely difficult, and only a few lucky souls ever make it to this level of happiness. I, however am one of the fortunate individuals. The sweet, shadowy darkness that surrounded me was pleasant, comforting and welcoming. It bathed me in a warm, soothing murkiness that completely shut away all light, keeping the harsh absoluteness at bay. I rolled over and felt his body near mine, laying on the side, heat from his skin was so warm and comforting. Reaching out, I pulled the silk sheet down away from his body, watching as it slowly descended down over his shoulder, then to his arm, and stopped at his hip. His bare flesh was perfectly pale and white, with very faint blue lines of veins lurking just below the surface. I laid there and stared at the marvel of beauty of his torso, muscular and strong, slightly rising and falling with each intake of breath. I let my fingers explore the small of his back, finding the bony ridges of his spine and start to slowly drag them up his back. I noticed how strong and muscular his shoulders were, broad and solid, able to bear almost any weight. Letting my fingers dance over them, I enjoyed the sensation of power and ruggedness underneath my fingertips. Leaning into him, I bought my lips to the delicate spot on the back of his neck, just below the hairline and placed a feather light kiss upon it. I felt him stir next to me, and I took the opportunity to slide my arm under his and pull myself closer to him. The heat instantly warmed my cool skin, chasing away the slight chill that crept into the air around me. I could smell the scent of his body, mixed with the masculine fragrance of his subtle cologne fill my nostrils and I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment. To my surprise, he rolled over and entwine his legs with mine, locking our bodies together in a firm embrace. My eyes opened and met with his, completely melting in those deep pools of color. When I first met him, I noticed how pale and colorless those grey irises were, but now the ocular canvas was dotted with spots of the most magnificent green color. It reflected in the almost non-existent dim light, making them sparkle like emeralds. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair, and then to the side of my head, letting his them casually fall onto my jawline. I could feel each digit brushing against the stubble of my facial hair as his soft caresses gently eased me out of the daze of sleep. Being this close felt wonderful, and a peaceful wave of safety and serenity resonated through my body. I gave him a light smile, and searched his face for one in return. Still stoic as ever, I did not find one, but instead, he answered with a kiss, using his fingers that rested on my jaw to tilt my head up as he sank down to meet me, our lips locked together in a moment of pure ecstasy. The kiss tasted sweet and delicious, with a deep lingering note of temptation and invitation. His hand shifted from the side of my face, down to my neck, and over my collarbone, dragging those slender fingers of his along with it, easing them down to my chest. Each swirl of movement left a trail of receptive flesh behind it, leaving it sensitive and prompting my body to respond in a most enlivened state. With the most subtle of movements, he dragged the impossibly beautiful form of his body onto mine, and the skin to skin contact was excruciatingly erotic. The satin sheet shifted and slid silently down behind him as he arched his back down and started to kiss my throat. My heart beat fast and thudded every single time those soft lips touched my skin. First kiss was on the side of my neck, then over my Adam’s apple, between my collarbones, and to the center of my rising and falling chest. Desperately wanting to touch this magnificent man, I reached for him and let my fingers run thtough his hair. It was soft and thick, like fine black velvet that I let slip in and out between each finger, gently grabbing tufts of it just to feel that softness and know it was real. His breath was warm and welcoming on my skin, as he parted his lips and licked at my nipples, and instinctively I shifted slightly under his solid weight, spreading my legs out to allow him to easily position between them. I arched my back and let out a soft moan of pleasure as his tongue rolled around the edge of my sensitive flesh, moving in perfect circles around the outer edge with a ravenous delight, the likes of which I had never experienced before. His hands ran down both the sides of my body, and came to rest on the bones of my hips, pushing me slightly back down onto the deep mattress of the bed, as he drew a tender bit of flesh into his mouth, sucking on my nipple, occasionally grazing his teeth over the taught flesh, causing me to tug on those strands of dark hair in an involuntary response. I felt his hand shift very slightly, and his fingers dip down over my hip and navigate their way to the inside of my thigh. Each subtle movement felt perfect and gentle, but leaving me with the longing and an intense desire for the next one. I glanced down to see him lower his head, and start kissing the flat part of my stomach. Holding himself up with one arm, I watched the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple in the dim light, while his lips found their way to a spot just below my navel. My hands dropped off his hair and grasped at the bedsheets, clutching at it, as he spoke a story on my flesh, without words, each sentence and chapter filled with movements of those lips, kissing, licking, sucking, moving lower and lower. I could feel the feint touch of his hand as it teased my now fully aroused shaft, running along the length and then back up again, his touch hesitating for a moment over the head with tantalizing round movements that left me gasping for breath. I leaned back into the pillows, feeling his body sliding further down on mine. The heat between us was almost unbearable, my body was glistening with sweat and feverish, but it was a welcoming, pleasurable sensation in the coolness of the room. I forced myself to take deep breaths, to stop the pounding of my heart so that I could enjoy each moment, each delightful touch, and the closeness of our bodies together. I reached out, and my hands found the tops of his shoulders, I wanted him so badly. I let my fingers curl over his muscular frame and dig in ever so gently as I felt him shift with the smallest of movements, and lower his head. I waited for that moment, for the touch of his lips on my engorged shaft, but nothing. He was motionless, remaining completely still on top of me, and I looked down to see him slowly start to tilt his face up, all ashen and pale, looking directly in my eyes. I shuddered, and a low cry escaped my throat. Those beautiful grey green eyes were now the demon red color again, trained and set right on me, flaring to life with a frightening crimson flash of violence and hatred. Twisting his lips, he sneered at me, taking obvious discomfort in my terrified state. There was a faint sound of something twisting, cracking and I looked on in horror as those jet black wings protruded from his back, breaking through the skin and slicing their way out from his spine. I shifted my body backwards, away from him, taking up all the sheets and blankets under me as I tried to scoot away, but it was of no use. As those huge wings unfurled around him, sending minute droplets of blood all over the bed, he lunged forward and grabbed my calf, his fingernails digging painfully into the flesh and pulled me down. I tried to grab onto the headboard of the bed, but he was too strong, and soon I was laying flat on my back, naked and afraid with him looming over me. Straddling me with the force of ten men, he slammed down hard, gripping both of my forearms with his hands, and pressed his chest against mine, letting the full, crushing weight fall over me. I struggled for breath. Sneering, snickering, his eyes locked onto mine, those wicked, red eyes beamed at me through hollow sockets and I stared in horror as his pale flesh began to flake off, turning to ash and disintegrate before me. I could feel each and every shred of that black ash touch my skin, and it instantly started to burn. I squirmed and struggled to get free, but he still held me in place. Bringing that rotting, macabre face close to mine, I could smell the stench of death and decay on him and tried to turn away as he came close, and I managed to face away from him as his putrid lips found my cheek, and he kissed me, searing my skin with a blinding white hot pain. My entire body was now bubbling and boiling with hundreds of burns from the ashes, the stench of festering and scorching flesh was overwhelming. He brought his lips to my ear, and whispered to me. “You did this to me, Dustin.” I screamed, inhaling lungfuls of the foul air and started to gag and cough. The vile, rancid stench made me nauseous and I began to wretch, bringing up mouthfuls of bile from my stomach. Tears ran down my eyes as I looked up at the dark shape looming over me and I gasped for breath. My lungs were closing off, I couldn't get enough air in at all, I felt the room starting to pitch and turn. Then I heard Benjamin laugh at me.  
I sat up with a start, clawing and scratching at the flesh of my arms, desperately trying to get the burning ash off of them as fast as I could. I felt hands grabbing me, holding onto my shoulders and shaking. I violently lashed out, as consciousness slowly descended on me, trying to fend off whomever as trying to accost me.  
“Dustin, hey wake up! You’re dreaming.” I heard a familiar voice and opened my eyes quickly, ceasing my struggle and saw Brock in bed next to me, desperately trying his best to rouse me from my slumber. I took a breath and fell back against the pillows, running my hands over my face. It was a dream, nothing more.  
With a crackly, distorted, distant voice, I managed to spew out a apology to him and tried my best to unwind my body from the twisted folds of sheets that held me down to the bed, hoping that the dream didn’t protrude onto reality. I stretched my legs out cautiously just to be sure and was relieved to see that it hadn’t. “Hey, I’m sorry about that.”  
Brock pulled himself up to a sitting position, and gave me a concerned look. Even after being forced out of sleep by my shouting and flailing, he wasn’t upset or angry. I turned over to my side and gave him a reassuring smile, which he gratefully accepted. It was early morning, and the sun was streaming in through the floor length windows lined the walls of our apartment. The sound of the waves outside crashing against the beach was soothing and comforting. Brock leaned over and wrapped one arm around me, and the warmth of his skin made me want to slip back to the sweet slumber of sleep. “It’s just a nightmare, everyone gets them. Don’t worry about it.” He gave me a gentle kiss on the side of the face, reminding me that I had to shave and then pulled himself out of bed. I made an effort to roll over and watch him as he stood up, his frame tall and slender, stretching out, wearing nothing more than boxers. He was so young, but the love that he had for me was ageless, and I appreciated that. “I am going to go make some breakfast. If you want some, you better drag that sweet ass out of bed, because in 20 minutes I am going to devour every bite and then you’ll have nothing but pop tarts.”  
“Are they galaxy colored, with little white sprinkles for stars?” I mumbled.  
Picking up a discarded pair of pants left on the floor, Brock threw them at me. “Nope, only plain cinnamon and sugar, because someone has forgotten to go shopping, so you get boring breakfast treats instead.” With a smirking laugh, he headed out of the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. I let out a quiet sigh and sat up, letting my legs hang over the edge of the bed. It was over a year since our tour finished, and that we settled down here together on this beautiful beachfront apartment. It had everything that we wanted, lots of space for rehearsal, a recording studio in the basement, a built in bar with a full size living room for entertaining, and most importantly, a beautiful view of the sky at night. Our first tour had done wonderfully, and our album was one of the best-selling of the year. The earnings we made from the headlining shows had paid well enough for us to live comfortably for some time, and it was a much needed break from all the stress of putting on a show every night. I even managed to invest some of the funds so that we could live at this level for a few years if needed, however, in the last few weeks, something started to gnaw at me. Even though we were happy with where we were, I was anxious and restless. The days were filled with jamming with friends, reading books on the balcony or even just sitting around doing nothing. Brock busied himself on the internet, working closely with the fan club, the Messengers, doing promoting and all the required amount of fan stuff. The rest of the guys would pop in occasionally to check up on us and see how we were doing. Life started to feel as though Brock and I was an old married couple. This complacent feeling started to irritate me. We had been through so much together, and now our lives were reduced to getting up every morning with bacon and eggs, lunch at noon, dinner at six and then bed by 10.  
I sluggishly dragged myself out of bed, showered, shaved and got dressed in a record 15 minutes. Heading to the kitchen, I found Brock sitting at the table, engrossed in a guitar magazine with a half-eaten plate of food in front of him. I sat down beside him and reached for a bottle of whiskey. Without even looking up, he slid the bottle away from me and pushed a cup of coffee in front of me instead, followed by a plate of food. I frowned, and he shot me an accusing look, and then flipped a page. Begrudgingly I picked at the pieces of bacon with the fork and scowled at him. Silently, I wondered if this is what my life has been reduced to, an early morning Ozzie and Harriet sitcom.  
Finally after some time, he lowered the magazine. “So what was your dream about?” he asked.  
I shrugged and stuck my fork into a pancake and sloshed it around in the syrup. “Nothing memorable, just a stupid run of the mill nightmare, but I think that there were rabid flamingos in it.” I lied. I could remember every detail of it, but the topic of Ben was strictly off limits. After our last encounter, he was reported missing, and we were forced to continue on with the tour without the band, headlining ourselves and had gained a enormous fan base because of it. The news reported that after Ben failed to report for a show, the authorities had implemented a search of the venue, and surrounding area, including the hospital grounds near it, but nothing turned up. There was no trace of foul play, or any inclination that he was in danger. Almost as if he had simply vanished. Theories, mostly from the fans and people that knew him started to surface that Ben had been ill for quite some time but was keeping it from the media, and finally he was too ill to perform, and didn’t want the added pressure of the media spotlight, so he arranged a disappearance. Others were that he went and committed suicide someplace where his body could never be recovered. I followed all the stories with interest, because I knew the truth. WE knew the truth, Brock and I.  
“Flightless birds are the worst and are usually only good for eating with ranch dressing.” He laughed, and put the magazine down neatly on the table next to him, turning his attention to me. “So what are your plans for the day?” he asked.  
The question caught me off guard. “Huh? Nothing really, how about you?”  
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through some messages before answering. I could tell that he was a little annoyed in my lack of enthusiasm for the day. “I’m meeting up with Adam, and we’re going to check out this new line of guitars that they’re selling downtown, I’d like to score some new sponsorship for when we tour again, gotta stay on top of things with the best gear around, you know?”  
I nodded and leaned against the bar feigning interest. “Do you guys want some company?” My question was completely out of duty, I didn’t really want to go. The fitful night’s sleep I had in the few hours of darkness, made me want to go lay back down and get a few more hours of rest.  
Brock shook his head and grabbed for his hoodie. “Nah man, it’s only going to a quick thing. I know you’re not a morning person anyway, you can just hang here and we’ll do lunch when we get back OK? I know that Adam is anxious to talk to you about some new ideas.” Jumping down off the bar stool, he put on his hoodie and started heading for the door. Stopping before he stepped outside, he turned around and gave me that bright smile that I always loved seeing. “If you need anything, I’m just a text away.” Waving, he turned around and headed out, leaving me alone in the apartment.  
I sat there for a very long time, listening to the sounds around me, completely lost in my thoughts. The lingering feelings of the dream were starting to concern me. It was well over a year and we were able to put everything behind us, push it out of my mind and forget about it, but now, here was the elephant in the room again, demanding attention. Maybe it was merely a dream, I couldn’t be certain one way or another, but it certainly opened up the floodgates of emotion inside my brain. I wasn’t sure how I could deal with it all again.  
Peering outside, I could see that the morning skies were overcast and threatening, but decided that I needed to go outside for a walk on the beach to clear my head. It was still early in the year, so the temperatures only slightly above freezing, and a walk along the ocean’s edge is just what I needed to wake me up. I threw on my heavy black jacket and pulled open the side door, instantly getting hit in the face with a blast of cool air that refreshed me. I inhaled deeply, taking it all in and went about systematically buttoning up the coat before stepping off the wooden porch and heading out.  
The thick, heavy clouds rolled overhead with perfect precision, completely covering the bright light of the sun and casting everything in an ominous dim glow. The sand was damp, but soft and comforting under my feet. The waves churned and rolled against the shoreline, where the seagulls squawked and dove in to pick up their breakfast. Other than the birds, the beach was completely empty and quiet. It was here in this desolation that I felt comforted. Brock would often tell me that I spent too much time alone, that I needed to be around people more and I honestly tried to make an effort, but at the end of the day, there’s just something about solitude that I was positively in love with. We spent a wonderful summer here, on this beach, with blankets thrown on the sand, a bottle of some cheap wine and hours of stargazing. I would sink down on that blanket and he would rest his head on my chest and I would point out each star and tell him the name of it, and when I ran out of names, we would make up silly ones just for fun. One morning I woke up to find that he drew me a constellation map of all those stars, ridiculous names included, and it was one of the most enduring things anyone has ever done for me. The summer seemed to pass so quickly, and now with winter upon us, it seemed to blanket everything in this stifling cocoon of numbness that sapped that spark between us, leaving us with the status of roommates, rather than lovers. At least that’s how I perceived it. Brock was always so pleasant and happy that it was incredibly hard to read him. He was always eager to be around me, to be at my side, devoted and dedicated that at times, it broke my heart.  
I kicked at a random broken shell at my feet and shoved my hands in the pockets of my coat. A cold shiver suddenly ran down my spine, and I pulled the jacket tighter. The temperature of the air had dropped, and a soft, gentle snow started to fall from the clouds. I looked out to the water and marveled at the beauty of the icy waves, now frosted and layered with snowflakes dotting the surface. There was an eerie, hushed silence that suddenly fell over everything, taking every sound with it except for the waves. Even the birds were gone, having vanished away from their feast, retreating away from the first snowflakes as fast as they could. I looked out to the horizon, down the water’s edge and notice that the snow had also brought a dense, thick fog with it that obscured everything around it. No longer could I see the line of houses that dotted the beachfront, or the wooden boardwalks that led up to the streets. It was very disturbing, but instead of heading back to the apartment, I decided to walk further out along the shore, to explore this unusual weather phenomena. I had only reached a few feet when I saw a dark shape stepping out from the mist. I stopped, and watched as it moved down the beach, very excruciatingly slow, merely inches at a time. Coming fully into my line of vision, I could see that it was a man, clad in black boots and jeans, with a matching black jacket that flowed around his incredibly tall body. His face and head were obscured by a black hood, that had a thin layer of snow accumulating on top of it, but I could see his hands, with long and slender fingers protruding out the cuffs of the coat and the flesh was pale white, almost matching the color of the snow and sand.  
I took a few steps forward, and as I did, the image before me flashed and flickered, like the distorted image of an old fashioned TV screen. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, thinking that I was only seeing things, but with each step sinking into the sand, the figure would shimmer. I completely stopped, letting the waves roll up underneath my feet. As I stopped, the figure in the distance disappeared, and then reappeared closer to me. Now I could make out small details of the clothing, but not the face, it was still hidden from me. Then I noticed that the sand behind the figure was undisturbed, untouched. I shivered. No footprints. “Who are you?” I whispered.  
“You’re still looking.” The voice was far away and distant, altered with strange sounds, and electronic noise. I had to struggle to hear it, even with all the other sounds strangely missing.  
“What? Huh? Looking for what?” I looked at him questioningly, noticing that the dim winter sunlight seemed to be dulling a bit.  
The wind had picked up, and the snow intensified, quickly accumulating on the sand around us. The figure shifted slightly, almost not at all. I would have missed it if I hadn’t been staring so intently. “They won’t make you whole; they don’t know your heart. I do. It’s the darkest part.”  
I narrowed my eyes and repeated, this time a bit more annoyed. “Who are you? How do you know me?”  
He reached out and took hold of my hand, and everything went dark. I was lost in this darkness for a few moments, and began to panic. I screamed out in the silence, but no sound came out. I tried to move but I was paralyzed. Then I heard his strained, altered voice again. “Remember” and a blast of images assaulted my eyes, skewering my brain with a bolt of emotions, feelings, memories all at once. The sky, earth, stars, a telescope, test papers, an adult shouting, a door slamming, a guitar being picked up, sheet music, a sharpie marker, bottles of whiskey, a computer, a microphone, a dark theater, bright stage lights, a cheering crowd, all ambushed me at once. Then I saw the band, in full gear all around me, the emulator in front of me, and each face in the audience staring up at me, wide eyed and anxious, hanging on every word said. These were my memories. Then I felt a touch of a soft hand on my shoulder, and heard the flutter of black wings behind me. A tear ran down my cheek and I turned around to see Ben there behind me, he was looking down at the ground, but as I spun around, those impossibly gray eyes fell onto mine, and he smiled at me. He was dressed in an almost identical outfit to the figure that I saw on the beach but was lacking the long dark coat. His shoulders weren’t as straight as I had known them to be, but slightly stumped over, as if he had been carrying something heavy for a long period of time. Blue circles outlined his sunken in eyes, giving him a ghastly undead appearance and his skin was the color of bone. I wanted to run to him, to wrap my arms around him, but I was frozen in place. I tried to say his name, but no matter how loudly I tried, there was no sound at all, only silence that choked me and cut off the air in my lungs.  
A sad look came over his face that nearly broke my heart. His eyes looked to me, almost pleadingly, and then the silence was broken with his deep, melodic voice. “Bring me back, Dustin.”  
I mouthed the word “How?”  
I saw the dark shape from the beach appear behind him. A wave of nausea started rising in the back of my throat. My heart pounded. It stretched out its arm, the motion was disgustingly smooth and liquid, it felt all wrong. The sound of television static was overwhelming. I wanted to scream. “You know how.” Ben answered, keeping his eyes on me, unaware of the danger behind him.  
The figure grabbed Ben from behind, clutching his head and giving it a quick twist in the space of a heartbeat and I watched helplessly as he dropped onto the cold, wet sand with a thud, neck broken. Then it came for me. “No!” I shouted. This time I could hear my voice. I turned around and started running back down the beach. I didn’t know where I was running to; I just had to get away from that thing. I ran faster and faster, putting distance between us, as much as I could before I had to stop. Completely out of breath, I leaned against one of the wooden watchtowers for lifeguards and looked around. My jaw dropped. It was night. There was no fog, no snow, nothing but a rain pounding away on the beach. I cleaned off my glasses and realized that I was completely soaked through.  
My mind raced with what I had just witnessed. Was Ben still alive, but trapped somewhere, being held by that dark shape, that monster? Was the nightmare that pitched me awake this morning somehow a premonition or evidence that his soul was still nearby, but trapped in an alternate reality, doomed to be punished for my indiscretions for eternity? The thought of him, being tortured over and over again made my heart ache. All he wanted is someone to love, someone to spend eternity with who would love him in return, and he sadly chose me. I regretted the fact that I couldn’t share the same feelings for him as he did for me, at the time it felt like a baptism by fire. I wasn’t ready for such strong emotions to be poured onto me and I panicked. Right after it happened, I tried my best to forget it, because I had Brock now, and he loved me with everything he could, but always there were these lurking, lingering feelings in the back of my head that screamed for Ben. If things were different… I sighed and lifted my head up to the sky, thinking about how I had done him wrong. I closed my eyes for a moment letting the rain wash over me, and made a conscious decision. I would get him back. But where to start? Then I looked down at my feet and saw a very tiny black pin feather lying on the sand, it's black color a start contrast to the white sand. I bent down and picked it up, hearing a voice inside my head. “Send out the signal.”  
The lights from the street illuminated the wooden walkway that led back up to the row of houses, which I slowly ascended, noticing that all the lights were off, it must be late. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and groaned. 2:03 a.m. 50 text messages, 17 missed calls from Brock. Fuck! It took me a few minutes to figure out where I was before slowly making my way back to the apartment. My mind reeled. I couldn’t make sense of what happened. How could I explain this to Brock?  
It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time I arrived at the apartment. Walking up the stairs that led onto the back patio, I could see inside through the doors and my heart sank. Not only was Brock there waiting for me, but he had called the rest of the band members and they were all there too, sitting in various locations of the kitchen, all looking haggard and worried. This wasn’t going to be easy. Brock never revealed to them what happened on that fateful night between us and Benjamin, mostly because the truth was almost unbelievable. We concocted a story about me being overworked and stressed out, dealing with a first time tour, which led me to mini breakdown. As much as I hated the idea of telling them a story where I was weak, it was the only thing that we could come up with that would blanket all of my erratic behavior. Now, here I was again, in almost the same exact situation, and I’d have to lie to everyone again, including Brock. It was killing me.  
I hesitated for a moment with my hand on the door knob, taking one last moment to collect myself before heading in. They all turned and looked at me with a mixture of concern and mild annoyance. Brock immediately ran over to me and threw his hoodie over my shoulders. “Dustin, where the fuck have you been?”  
I avoided eye contact with him. “I ugh, went out for a walk, but I got lost and my phone died. Decided to stop in at a bar and have a few drinks, and lost track of time. Funny how hard it is to get a cab when it’s pouring rain outside, so I decided that I’d just walk it, but it was further than I thought.” They were all staring at me. They knew I was lying.  
Brock cut in, “Well at least you’re back now, and don’t look worse for wear.” He started to pull the damp jacket and shirt off of me. Good Brock, he didn’t bother to ask questions in front of all of them, he accepted my answer and left it at that. I knew that I’d have to explain when everyone left. He knew where and when to choose his battles.  
As he started to unbutton my shirt and the others were grumbling between themselves, I put my hand on Brock’s hand and stopped him. “Wait.” I stepped into the center of the room, and took my glasses off. “I have something to say.” Everyone turned and focused attention on me. I shivered and almost instantly wished that I had at least had Brock give me a dry shirt before this. Wet, stringy hair dripped in my face and I pushed it back with my hand before I started talking. “I want to thank all of you for sticking with me, through everything that has happened, both good and bad.” I shot Brock a casual glance so he’d know my next few words were aimed at him. “Even when I was trying to find myself, and find out who I am as a person, all of you stuck with me and supported me in the choices that I have made.” Brock smiled at me. “But with all the success we’ve had, everything that we’ve attained so far, I can’t help that something is missing. I thought I’d be happy with where we are right now, but…I’m not. I don’t want people to receive our Message just one time and be over and done with it, what we’re sending out there needs to be a constant, definitive thing that can adapt and change to its surroundings.” I heard one of them scoff, but I let it pass. “I know that this all sounds contradicting and strange, but you’ve all thought me mad before and it’s become something wonderful. What I am asking you all is to please do this all over again… stand by my side and show the world what’s really happening.”  
“Dustin, you know that we’re never going to leave you, no matter how odd you get.” Brock laughed. His laughter was met by the others and it felt good. “But what exactly are you asking us to do?” he inquired.  
Using the hem of my damp shirt, I wiped off my glasses and then slid them back onto my face. “I want to record a new album.”


End file.
